


It’s Inevitable, Really...

by love_write_edit_sleep



Category: Zombieland (2009 2019)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Can be seen as platonic or ship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Protective Tallahassee (Zombieland), Tallahassee POV, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombie Bite, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23161102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/love_write_edit_sleep/pseuds/love_write_edit_sleep
Summary: During one ordinary afternoon in Zombieland, Columbus brings up a discussion on what to do if one of them gets bitten. Tallahassee isn’t too happy about it.
Relationships: Columbus & Tallahassee (Zombieland), Columbus/Tallahassee (Zombieland)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 117





	It’s Inevitable, Really...

“Hey, Tal?”

_Ah, fuck… Columbus can’t keep his goddamn mouth shut for two fuckin’ seconds, can he?_

“Whaddaya want, spit-fuck?”

_Hey, how come he don’t ever ask me what I want? I’m a simple man._

_I just wanna drive down the open road in the Beast, mowin’ down every goddamn zombie we see, singin’ along to some Elvis playin’ on the radio with my scrawny little Spit-Fuck beside me, naggin’ at me to put ma goddamn seatbelt on or some shit._

_Like we’ve been doin’ for about four hours now._

_Or… maybe I wanna be takin’ Buck to school, beepin’ at all the other slow-ass parents in their slow-ass traffic while Buck sings along to that blasted Disney CD. Hakuna Matoto or some shit… Hell, Columbus would love that song. I wonder where that damn CD went… But that was before Zombieland… and before Buck-_

“We, um… We gotta talk…”

_Jeez, when it comes to Columbus, we always seem to talk. The kid could win a fuckin’ marathon with his mouth alone._

“About what?”

“About, um… what to do if… if one of us gets bit…?”

_Oh, hell no!_

_I slammed the brakes, and, okay, maybe the Spit-Fuck has a point about the bloody seatbelts… Once he’d peeled ‘imself off the dashboard, he glared at me, as though it was my fault, and not his with his stupid suggestion._

“We ain’t talkin’ about that.”

“We should though.”

“No way in Hell!”

“Rule 22: When In Doubt, Know Your Way Out.”

“Rule 8: Get A Kickass Partner. And you got me. I ain’t lettin’ either of us get bit!”

“But if one of us does-“

“We won’t!”

“You didn’t think Buck was gonna get bit!”

_Low blow, Columbus, low fuckin’ blow. The kid realised that too, if that trademark deer-in-the-headlights look on his face, and the way he tried to hide ‘imself in the passenger seat, was anythin’ to go by. I almost felt bad for the kid. Didn’t stop me from growlin’ at ‘im though. He has no idea what it was like, shootin’ me own kid._

“You got some fuckin’ nerve draggin’ Buck into this.”

“It’s… It’s just something we _need_ to talk about…”

_Kid had a point…_

“It… It’s inevitable, really.” _The fucker had the nerve to smile. Inevitable? Really? Does he not know who he’s buddied up with? I ain’t about to let any zombie ass fucker get to either of us._

“Fine. If one of us gets bit, we pull the trigger on ourselves before we turn.” _I snapped and started drivin’ again, hopin’ it would make ‘im happy and shut ‘im up for a moment. Should’a known that was too much to ask of ‘im._

“Would… would you shoot me…? If I get bit…?”

_What the fuck kind of a question was that?_

“Why can’t you do it?”

“Because… I’m scared… And I don’t wanna die…”

_Fuck this kid, and fuck his stupid ass fuckin’ questions..._

“Do you wanna be a zombie then?” _I asked, avoidin’ answerin’ the question. It wasn’t so much a case of ‘would I’, but ‘could I’. You ever imagine shootin’ your best friend in the face? Because I ain’t, and I ain’t gonna be the one to look ‘im in the eyes and tell ’im he’s about ta die._

“No… But I don’t wanna die either.”

“Well pick one. Become a zombie or shoot ya’self?”

_I wonder for a moment, what kind of zombie he would be. He ain’t quiet enough to be a Ninja, but he’s smart. Maybe he’d be a Hawking, though part of me thinks he’d be a Homer, harmless and frankly kinda sweet. I shake the thoughts from my head. What the fuck was I doing?_

“Fuck you.” _The kid shut up after that, thank fuck. I was done with that conversation before it even started._

But that was four months ago. Now I’m starin’ at my Spit-Fuck in his wide-ass eyes as he holds his shakey-ass hand over a bite on his forearm, as though that would erase all the bullshit that had just happened.

Erase the fuckin’ fact that _I_ was supposed to get bit, and not his stupid sacrificial ass.

“You fuckin’ idiot…” My voice breaks, not that I give a flyin’ fuck. My only friend left in this bastard world is about to fuckin’ _die_ , and I should’a _stopped_ it, not _caused_ it.

“I-I know.” Fuckin’ kid has the goddamn audacity to smile. _Bastard_. “Tal?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you do it? Please…?” The kid’s shakin’, he’s scared shitless, he always was a wimp. A brave wimp, but a wimp none-the-less. “C-consider it my-my dying wish?” He forces another smile, as though he can charm his way around me. He ain’t wrong, but still.

“Sure, kid.” I always thought shootin’ Buck would be the hardest thing I’d ever have to do…

“Tal?”

“Yeah?”

“Th-thanks for picking me up. I-In Garland.”

“My pleasure, Spit-Fuck…” My throat tightens, Columbus makes this whiny ass noise, similar to the noise Buck used to make when he scraped his knees. I sigh, riskin’ gettin’ close to the kid and pressin’ my forehead to his, hopin’ to calm ‘im down. Calm us _both_ down. Columbus makes a different noise and starts grippin’ my jacket. He doesn’t wanna leave, and I don’t wanna lose ‘im…

_It’s inevitable, really..._

“D-do it, Tal.” I can’t tell if he’s givin’ me permission or what, but it’s enough to get me to pull away and press the barrel of my shotgun to his forehead. “D-don’t forget to double tap…” He tries to hide the fact he’s borderline sobbin’ with that goofy ass smile of his, but I know the kid well enough.

“Ready?”

“Th-that’ll do, pig…” Spit-Fuck makes a choked effort of a laugh, and I burn it to my memory. The last thing I’ll ever hear him say. And it’s a fuckin’ lame ass movie quote, because he _knows_ I hate goodbyes… My vision blurs as I prepare the shot.

“That’ll do.”

Then I pull the trigger.

**Author's Note:**

> ...I’m sorry XD


End file.
